Macchu Picchu

So once again I seem to have taken slightly longer than expected to compile another update. Crazy things tend to happen here in Peru, as you'll read over the next few posts. But first, Macchu Picchu. (And good news about waiting is that with wifi now I can include pictures).

I was supposed to trek this wonder of the world my second weekend in Cusco, but just two days before the activities coordinator at the school asked if I could switch to a new weekend. Seeing as I didn't have too many plans made already there was no problem, and switching weekends ended up being one of the bet things that could have happened.

My group was small, just me and four others. A couple from Ireland, a girl from Australia, and a guy from Canada who also happened to be a professional photographer. That was a nice little bonus. Our guide, Silvio, had been to Macchu Picchu almost 400 times. He knew his stuff.

Most people hike the Inca Trail, but my group did the Lares Trek. With a different starting point that needed to cross a checkpoint that closed at 6am due to construction, we had a 3:45 pickup. After a groggy first couple of hours and seeing the sun rise, the adrenaline kicked in as we arrived at our starting point for our three days of hiking.

So I will admit here that our group was kinda spoiled. This trek was booked for me as part of my entire month in Peru so I didn't quite know what to expect. I for sure did not know we would have porters carrying our extra bags, tents set up for us very night, or three fully cooked meals a day. Needless to say I was pleasantly surprised. Sadly we didn't also have donkeys to carry ourselves up the large cliffs. Our highest point the entire trek was just over 15,000 ft. Easily the highest I've ever been.

Our first say started off slowly for everyone. No one in our group had been at higher than sea level for more than a week, and some of the toughest hiking was right off the bat. There were several breaks during the first couple of hours. At the same time I was worried about conserving my camera battery. I wasn't going to be able to charge it for a few days, and if it had no battery when I got to Macchu Picchu I probably would have cried. But I didn't have to worry about conserving too much battery that day because it began to rain. Hard. For two hours. And for 30mins we had hail. It's fun to walk in hail, if you enjoy pain and not looking at the beautiful scenery.

But by the end of the first day the weather had cleared and it only got better as each day went along. The second day was by far the most beautiful, with sunny weather most of the day and our highest point of the trip. At that point we saw a beautifully clear lake. No pollution up there, crystal clear. Incredible. That view was followed by walking along alpaccas and llamas and looking down into a gigantic valley. Couldn't have been a better day.....until I got the migraine from hell at camp and was completely out of it for four hours.

Third day got us into a small town called Aguas Calientes before taking a train to the town of Macchu Picchu. We actually had a night in a hostal so we could shower (mine was in the dark bc the power had gone out), and we had another early wake up call--4:30--for our big day.

Waking up the next morning I immediately felt excited and anxious. I had wanted to see Macchu Picchu for as long as I could remember, and when I planned my entire year of traveling I thought this day could be the single greatest highlight of the whole trip. We ate breakfast, got in line for the buses, and made our way up the trail to get in line. Then they started letting people in....

Those first few moments walking into the site are something I will never forget. You could catch a small glimpse of some mountains if you looked, but I kept my head down to 1) make sure I saw it all at once and 2) see where I was going so I didn't trip. Everyone was silent. No one, not at all, was talking. It felt eerie almost, as if people were anticipating what was around the corner while respecting where they were at the same time. Then you turned the corner and bam! Macchu Picchu. There it is.

The one place I had been to in my life that I knew only did itself justice in person was the Grand Canyon. No doubt, that list now includes MP. I've thought for a while to try and think of words to describe what I saw. There are three descriptions I have come up with/experienced....1) Breathtaking scenery--you're honestly in shock of he views 2) laughably incredible becase you don't believe what you see 3) Tear-inducingly beautiful because there is nothing else like it in the world. Mountains, stone structures, and luckily for us not too many tourists.

After a tour of the site from our guide Silvio, we climbed Huanupicchu. That's the big mountain you see in the background of all the main Macchu Picchu pictures. It's another 1200 ft up, and was possibly the most terrifying experience of my life. I don't have a huge fear of heights, I just fear insanely steep stairs with no railing and a 500ft or more drop to the nearest branch at any moment of our climb. There's a sign in sheet to make sure everyone returns, and I'm shocked more people don't die climbing it (apparenly it's only about one every year or so). But the views from the top are out of this world amazing and getting there is one of the things I'm most proud of in my life. If you go you must climb it, just be careful.

And so, exhausted and sweaty and hungry, we got back to our hostal later that day and took the train back to Cusco. I can't wait to go back someday and experience the views again. Something I'll never forget and yet something I can't wait to do again.

Cusco, Peru Part II

So I´ve fallen behind on blogging again. My apologies. I was pretty sick for a couple of days this week, and while it´s never fun to be sick, it´s definitely more interesting when you have crazy dreams of saving babies and needing to go to the hospital bc your legs have to be amputated. Such was my life after an apparently bad tuna sandwich.

I thought I´d write a little more about Cusco since my last post was quite rushed. I also promise to post another time or two before the weekend is over and I´m incommunicado next week while traveling to Lake Titicaca. So, some observations about Cusco:

--The number of wild dogs has continued to fascinate me. You don´t just see one or two every day, you see 30 or 40. They are everywhere. Some are cute, some are downright dirty. Some are visably pregnant or nursing, and most are just trying to find a place to take a nap. But you have to walk around them as much as you do people on the sidewalks. And resisting the urge to pet them is never easy, but I´ve held back.

--You know how sometimes you´re sitting in your car behind a giant truck and when that truck starts up after a red light all this terrible black smoke comes out from the exhaust pipe? Every single car in this city is like that truck. It´s nuts. My friend here joked with her host family that her 1992 car back in Colorado is so old. Her host mother said that´s fairly new for people in Cusco. It just makes walking tougher because you´re always inhaling smog and dirt and caughing when a car goes by. My clothes probably get dirty twice as fast here as they do at home. And that nice breath of fresh air you take every now and then? I´m gonna have to wait another couple of weeks.

--Haggling is part of the culture here, especially in the major markets. However, I admit I feel terrible when I do it. Everything here is so cheap. Women in the markets will haggle because they still make a profit, but am I really the person (or any American or fortunate citizen from a first world country) who should be saying ¨No, senora, I only want to pay 3 bucks, not 4 for that hat¨? I feel ridiculous, so often times I just take what advertise as the price. But try to gouge me because I look so touristy and I´ll bargain down like it´s my job. The best way, no joke, is to just stare at the product you want and not say anything. I´ve gotten women to take off almost ten bucks just doing that. Sometimes yoú´re just thinking and before you know it you´ve haggled.

--The history of this city is quite something. I admit, I didn´t know a thing about Cusco before coming here. I probably couldn´t tell you it was a city in Peru before my trip. But the Incas were responsible for so much cultural significance in the area it truely is astounding. And when the Spanish came, everything changed. Cathedrals, laws, you name it. The combinationof the cultures has lead to a unique relationship with religion and the locals´relationship with the earth as a spiritual path. Very interesting stuff.

--I try to save money by eating with my host family, but the food here is so good and so cheap it´s hard to resist. I can get a 4 star gourmet burger with two beers for just over 15 bucks, or I can get a large pizza for 7. Everything is about a third of the price here as it would be at home.

--Oh, the buses. Possibly my favorite part of the city. Each ¨line¨or ¨route¨is determined by the name on the buses. There´s the Servicio Rapido line, the Lion of St. Germain, the El Dorado, and even the Batman. Each ¨bus¨is different, but most are large vans with about 20 people packed inside. How anyone gets out at any stop is beyon me. If you can get a seat you´re lucky.

--Just another cheap thing and because I´m a New York City guy. Cabs here are at most, which is only during the night, one dollar. No matter the distance. Amazing.

--Finally, the people on the street who come up to you asking if you want to buy something or go to their restaurant. For the first couple of times you walk through the main plaza it´s almost charming. You say no politely, or dare to see what they are offering. But after three weeks I just want to shove those people up against the wall. No, I don´t want to go to your pizzeria, did you not just see me walk out of the restaurant next door? No I wouldn´t like an öriginal painting¨that I´ve seen sold in three different towns.¨And NO I DO NOT WANT A MASSAGE! The massage ones are almost funny because these women only know how to say ¨Massage senor?¨Even turn your head and they pounce on you and speak away in Spanish. I´ve resorted to just ignoring these people, giving a stern no, and occasionally saying something quickly in English that just leaves them confunsed.

Ok, that´s all for now. Check back tomorrow for something new on Macchu Picchu!

Cusco, Peru

So I´ve made it to Peru after a quick stop in LA and about 22 hours of toal flying. It was nuts, but I have arrived in Cusco and have had one heck of a week.

I arrived a day late because I had to come all the way from New Zealand, so things were crazy off the bat. Oh, and they changed my host family the day before I arrived because my host mother had to go to the hospital in Lima. Crazy. But I was picked up by my new host father, Cesar, and taken to the house. It´s a nice little apartment only a short walk from the center of town. Inez, his wife, is a very nice lady who always seems to be busy. They are both retired teachers and have hosted many people on my program.

The school I am doing my program through is the Academia Latinoamericana de Espanol. They have a school here in Cusco, and two others--one in Bolivia and the other in Ecuador. They offer spanish classes at every level, and they work with local schools for volunteer projects. The schools are closer to daycares because they are for kids 3-5, but they are all kids of disadvantaged and poor families. So, after I arrived in Cusco I was told to take a nap because the altitude is a killer. It´s 11,000 ft above sea level here, easily the highest I´ve ever been. I´m easily out of breath walking up the street, and headaches were a problem this week.

This week I took classes at the school, and they get right into it. No english, at all. And considering I had studied spanish for 6 months over the past 6 years, things were a bit rough at first. I still understand and never lost the major aspects of the grammar, but lord I´ve forgotten so much vocabulary. I forgot snake (serpiente), moon (luna), and I´ve even spoken french a few times, an astounding fact considering my french vocab consists of about ten words. But I had a great teacher named Rebeca along with two other students. Sarah was younger than me and from Belgium while Francesca was in her 40s and from France. The academy has people of all ages from all over the world, hoping to improve their spanish and work with local kids at the same time.

It´s easily been the most emotionally tolling week of my entire trip. Even more so than when I first left home. In Australia you can feel lonely or homesick and still just get by and figure things out no problem by checking into a hotel if you need a break. I kinda felt the same way here but it´s s tough to communicate sometimes. Monday night was crazy and lying in bed I realized I hadn´t spoken a word of english all day. I don´t think that´s happened ever in my life. It was tough to say the least, but things have steadily improved throughout the week.

I´m now done with my spanish classes portion of the program, and today I visited the school that I´ll be volunteering at for the next two weeks. The kids have already stolen my heart and I want to adopt them all. They´re incredibly sweet and vivacious and just love meeting new people, playing soccer, and doing arts and crafts. There´s no way someone couldn´t like these kids.

But before I start my volunteering I´m heading to Macchu Picchu this weekend for four days. I´ve been looking forward to this part of my journey more than any other singular moment, and I cannot wait to get started. It´s currently pouring rain outside, so I hope that stops, but I am geting picked up at 3:45am in the morning to get started. Four days, about 6 hours of hiking a day, and hopefully the most incredible views of my life at the top.

I´ve probably left something out here, my apologies, but I need to get some sleep before a big day tomorrow. Anything I´ve forgotten I´ll include in the next post. Until then, adios.

On the road again...

Today is my final day in New Zealand as I take off again tomorrow. It's been four fantastic months here, from chopping down weeds to driving around the south island with my mom to playing rugby and baby sitting three adorable children. But I'm ready to move on after six months in Australasia. It's been grand, but new adventures await.

Over the next two days I'll be in four different countries. Starting off in New Zealand, I fly to LA tomorrow for about 24 hours before I get on a plane again. I head down to El Salvador for about an hour before I finally end up in Lima, Peru. That's about as crazy a travel itinerary I've ever had.

But I am especially looking forward to my short stint in LA, getting to see a bunch of friends, and watching a Stanford football game that isn't on my computer screen in millions of pixels.

I will be arriving at my host family's place in Cusco, Peru some time late Sunday or early Monday. I'll be back in the eastern time zone so now weird calculations to make any more, and I'll post an update as soon as I've settled in and can find an internet cafe later next week. The first few days should be pretty simple--Spanish classes, orientation, etc--but I'll try and let everyone know I haven't caught malaria and died.

Oh, I'll also be posting pictures of all my adventures from Rotorua (several pictures of the adorable girls included) on facebook soon, so check those out.

Ok, I'm off. Adios!

Chippie sandwiches.

We've been meaning to have a picnics with the girls lately, and finally we decided to just have it inside instead of waiting for a perfect afternoon on ye weekend. Our "picnic" consisted of snack food mostly, including some chippies.

If you didn't know or remember, chippies are french fries. They're also chips or hot chips, but chippies for little kids I guess. But for this picnic Shanelle and Brendon insisted that I try a chippie sandwich. And yes, it's absurd as it sounds.

You begin with a simple piece of white bread. For extra artery clogging you can smother it in butter. Then simply place a few chippies on the bread. Add ketchup if that's your thing, and fold the bread over and you're done!

It tasted about as I expected. It's fries with ketchup, just with a some bread outside. It's good, just completely unnecessary. But the kids love it, and if you're ever in the mood to try something new and take a year or two off your life then I say go for it.

I went to a Hangi

A Hangi is a traditional Maori feast. It involves an entire day of preparation, and here in Rotorua they provide an entire cultural experience for those who come.

I went alone to the Hangi, and had those few awkward minutes sitting at my table with no one else and just staring around with no one to talk to. Eventually my table began to fill up, and next to/across from me were two older couples: one from Ireland and the other from Vancouver, Canada. They spoke to each other very openly about the U.S., about Obama, and more. They discussed how Americans are whiny, how our economy is messes up, and how Washington politics are so screwed over for the next several years. They went on about all of these things for a solid ten minutes, and only then did they turn to me to ask my name and where I was from. "Washington, D.C." I said. "Ohhhh" was the reply by each of them, followed by a long silence when they all looked extremely awkward/embarrassed and weren't sure what next to say.

I assured them that they were not totally in the wrong, but I did explain a few things to them about to current situation so they didn't think all Americans are crazy or our system a waste. The wife from Canada was particularly funny. She would not--and I mean would NOT--stop complaining about the noise a group of kids were making. Her husband obviously was embarrassed by her constant whining, and tried to point out that they are children about ten times. Later, after telling me about how she enjoyed this country and that country, I pointed out that they seemed to travel quite a lot. "Yeah, we're in a bit of debt." well maybe you shouldn't go to Turkey every year for three weeks only because "the people there are so nice." Just a thought.

Anyway, we were then brought to the attention of our guide for the evening. He asked where people were from (only American there, shocking) and explained the events of the evening and asked for a volunteer to help him out with everything.

First on the list of to-dos was to check on the hangi, out feast. A hangi works by digging a deep hole in the ground and heating it up with hot rocks and gathering steam and smoke. The gold is then placed in the hole and covered in cloth, and then the hole is covered. It cooks all day, and no spices are added. Pretty awesome how it works. So we checked on it, everything looked good, and so we moved on to a small creek to see some native Maori chants done while in a canoe on the water. Also pretty cool, fire was involved, and they wore indigenous clothing and artwork on their bodies/faces.

The final part of the cultural performance happened in an auditorium setting. There was singing, dancing, a female peace offering and presentation to all of us who were guests for the evening. Fascinating stuff to see the ancient practices of the Maori people and how they are still used today. They did their haka dance as well, equally as impressive as everything else shown that night.

An finally it was time to feast. Like I said before there is no seasoning on this food, but the chicken and lamb just falls off the bone. Rice, potatoes that melt in your mouth, and so much incredible food. I could have eaten ten plates, but while pacing myself dinner was over so while I was disappointed in trying to eat ten plates it was probably a blessing in disguise. I was full, and it was an incredible meal. Overall an incredible evening of culture, food, and interesting company.

My Birthday "celebration"

This post could also fall under the "oops I probably shouldn't have done that" posts, it was that special a celebration.

My birthday was a couple of weeks ago (just go "oh crap I didn't say anything"? Belated wishes are still being accepted, no late fees apply) and my host family wanted to make it memorable. Despite the drinking age only being 18 here, the big thing to do on your 21st birthday is to drink a yardie. A yardie is one of those giant yard glasses that holds a lot more liquid than you might think, and for your 21st you fill it with beer.

The object during this "celebration" is to drink the beer as fast as possible. My host parents both did theirs around 3:30, and both gloriously puked it all back up almost immediately. They even told me that there's a 99% chance I'll do the same. So I began to mentally prepare.

Come my birthday we set out to buy the yardie and the beer. These things aren't cheap--we found a steal for only $35. Most were about $90. Then I had to get beer. My options were pretty limited and I wanted to drink something familiar so I wasn't chugging some weird, foreign beer that tasted horrible. My best option was Carona. Not ideal, but it was that or something I wouldn't bother giving to a homeless man. NZ beer=not the best.

The other part of preparation involves pouring the beer as early as possible the day of consumption to flatten it--chugging with bubbles isn't as easy. So I did just that the moment we got home with the beer. In the end the yardie held seven bottles of beer. Throughout the day I kept checking to see I'd the bubbles were still around and taking a whiff of the Carona and the lime I had added to it. Smelled delicious. I was ready.

We had homemade pizzas that night for dinner. Delicious, but I had to hold back because I didn't want to puke up an entire pie. Then came the moment after the kids went to bed and Brendon and Shanelle were ready too. You need a "pourer" to help out because the yardie needs to be twisted as the liquid comes out. Otherwise too much will flow from the bottom and splash all over your face. Brendon was the pourer and Shanelle was the photographer.

Well let me tell you, despite my expectations, flat and room temperature beer is not very tasty. It was nasty. Horrible. Disgusting. I was so shocked by the taste I lost concentration. I was trying to chug as much as possible but I slowed down about halfway through. I had chugged almost four beers in about 90 seconds. I wanted to keep chugging but my stomach wasn't having it. I had to resort to giant gulps one at a time. But soon I felt that rumbling and had to stop despite the cheers of my host parents telling me to finish. I thought I was going to lose it, but I willed y stomach to hold up. I said I'd rather finish this thing and not puke even I'd it takes me forever.

As I continues to struggle towards the finish one gulp at a time I got some encouragement by two year old Ella who had woken up and come outside. She started clapping her hands and repeating whatever her mom said. How could I not be enthused by a two year old cheering on a guy chugging beer? Several times I thought I was going to lose it, but I felt more determined as the chugging went on to not spew. Finally I got the last gulp down. Completed! Finished! I did it!

My time? 25 minutes. Apparently that's just not even acceptable. I tried to claim hey I didn't puke, something almost unheard of. But of course the locals just said it was only cause I took ten years to do it. But I thought of it as a power hour done in half the time or less, plus an extra beer. Brendon and Shanelle teased me for taking so long, but I was happy just to not puke. So take what you will.

But I now have a new task for all my friends back home on their next birthday. I will be the pourer, and everyone will do a yardie. Maybe someday I'll do another one just for kicks and try and not be the slow poke.